The Many Crimes of Melody Pond
by GwaithGweneth
Summary: A series of looks at Melody's life through the window of her crimes. Spoilers through Let's Kill Hitler.
1. Theft

**Series Title:**The Many Crimes of Melody Pond

**Chapter Title:**Theft **  
>Fandom:<strong>Doctor Who**  
>Rating:<strong>G/PG**  
>CharactersPairing:**River, a dog**  
>Summary:<strong> Melody Pond committed her first crime when she was eight years old.**  
>Notes:<strong>Spoilers through Let's Kill Hitler. Concrit, please. The first in a series of snapshots of Melody's life, taken through the window of her crimes. I've _finally_ thought of something to write about Mels, so hopefully this will help me work out my feelings about that episode. The prompt for this was 'theft', off my crimes prompt table—I'll be using prompts from that table for this fic, hopefully when it's finished I can knock that table off my (unofficial) Mission Insane list. Also, this fic sort of got away from me a bit. There's less, you know, _crime_ than I planned, and more Melody being cute with a dog. This fic also assumes that the little girl in Day of the Moon is Melody, and is set shortly after she escapes.

The first time Melody committed a crime, she was eight years old. (Sanctioned execution wasn't a crime, neither was sanctioned mind wiping). She stole a peach from a fruit seller. He didn't see her—she'd been trained in stealth, and anyhow she was quite small. She hid in an alley while she ate it, smiling as the sticky juice ran down her chin. The ache in her stomach lessened.

As she ate, she surveyed her surroundings. A stray dog walked over to her, mangy, his fur matted. The dog might once have been brown, but time and dust had turned its coat grey. It was thin, very thin, much thinner than Melody—and Melody was quite thin. The dog nosed at her peach.

She looked at him.

"You can't have it, you know," she told the dog. "If you take it, I'll kill you."

The dog pressed its nose to the back of her hand.

"I _could_, if I wanted to. I'm very good at that sort of thing." She smiled. "I was _made_ for that sort of thing. I'm the greatest weapon in the whole universe, I think. I must be. I was made to kill the greatest criminal in the whole universe, so I must be the greatest weapon. He's very powerful you know. Very important."

The dog sniffed, and settled down with its head on Melody's leg, looking dolefully up at her.

"He is, too! I think I'd quite like to meet him. And not just because I'm supposed to kill him, either. I mean I'd quite like to _meet_ him, properly. Because he must be amazing, if they need someone as good as me to kill him."

The dog snuffled, and rammed its head into Melody's chest, insistent on increasing contact.

"Stop it, or I'll disable you. I might kill you, I might just knock you out and break your legs, but it'll be very uncomfortable for you anyway." Melody finished the peach, and tossed the pit to the ground.

"You can have that, if you want. It tastes _awful_."

The dog licked at the peach pit, then went to do the same to Melody's hands and face. She giggled, then frowned and moved away.

"You really don't get it, do you? I could _kill_ you."

The dog whined, and rolled over, exposing its belly. Melody could see where its ribs were, and she poked at it.

"I've been trying to remember things," she said. She poked at the dog again, and ran her hand over its ribs. "Lots of things. Like why I left, and what my name is, and where I'm meant to be going. I can remember, sometimes, if I try quite hard. Some bad things happened, I think. It makes my head hurt…I wish I knew my name. Sometimes I think I know, and sometimes I don't remember that I've forgotten anything." Her hand stilled, and she looked hard at the dog. It panted, its tongue lolling out of its mouth, and pushed its stomach against her hand. "If I tell you my name next time I remember, will you hold onto it for me? And not go away, and never give it to anyone else? Will you promise? I can kill you if you don't."

The dog rolled back over, and sniffed Melody's hand.

Melody scratched its nose absentmindedly. "I'm still hungry. I haven't eaten in_ ages_. I don't have to worry about eating usually, there's the suit and they always give me food-" Melody stopped. "Oh. I'd forgotten the suit." She smiled. "That's nice. I like when I remember things. Except sometimes. Sometimes I don't like it, like if the things aren't very nice." Melody patted the dog's head. "Anyway, I'm still hungry. I'm going to go get some more food. I'll get you some too, but only if you keep my name for me. And remember, you can't tell anyone, or else I'll snap your neck." The dog thumped its tail on the ground, and licked Melody's face. "Alright. I'm going. You wait here, though, you'll get me caught." She leaned forward and looked the dog very seriously in the face. "I work better alone," she said.

She didn't go back to the fruit stand. She went down a different street, to a different stand. She stole some meat, hot and juicy and greasier than was really healthy, and some flat bread, which she didn't think she'd ever tried before. It looked edible, though.

When she got back to the alley, the dog was still there. It beat its tail hard against the ground, then got to its feet. It trotted over to her.

"Hello Dog," she said. "I've brought some meat. I'm going to eat first, but you can have some when I'm finished.

She sat down, and set about eating the rest of her meal. When she had finished with the greasy meat, she gave what was left to the dog. It ate it happily, quickly, gnawing on the bones it received. Melody ate the bread which she had stolen, then smiled at the dog, scratching behind its ear. It yawned.

"You can go to sleep if you want," Melody said. "It's okay. I'll watch out for you."

The dog settled down next to Melody, and she lay beside it, resting her head against its side.

"I'm the greatest weapon in the world, you know."


	2. Murder

Series Title: The Many Crimes of Melody Pond

Chapter Title: Murder **  
><strong>Fandom: Doctor Who**  
><strong>Rating: PG/PG-13**  
><strong>Characters/Pairing: River**  
><strong>Summary: River Song is not Melody Pond. Melody Pond was not a murderer.**  
><strong>Notes: Spoilers through Let's Kill Hitler. Concrit, please. The second in a series of snapshots of Melody's life, taken through the window of her crimes. I've _finally_ thought of something to write about Mels, so hopefully this will help me work out my feelings about that episode. The prompt for this was 'theft', off my crimes prompt table—I'll be using prompts from that table for this fic, hopefully when it's finished I can knock that table off my (unofficial) Mission Insane list. So, hopefully this will end up in chronological order. That's the plan, anyway. Which means this series will have less Mels than I planned. But this one is pretty much ALL ABOUT MELS, so…

One Last Note: Thank you to ChellusAuglerie for pointing out to me that it was psychopath, not sociopath. I've fixed it now, I think.

.

Melody Pond was a psychopath. She was a weapon, a killer, an executioner. But Melody Pond was not a murderer.

River Song was not Melody Pond.

River Song was not a psychopath—at least she didn't think she was. She was not a weapon, or a killer, or an executioner—at least, she didn't think she was.

And River Song was not a murderer—at least, she didn't think she was.

For two years, River Song was not a psychopath or a weapon or a killer or an executioner. For two years, River Song was not a murderer.

And then River Song was.

.

Melody Pond was born into war and fire and pain and death. She was forged at Demon's Run and formed with lies, she was a weapon and she was beautiful.

River Song was born to healing.

Melody Pond had a purpose. She was the Doctor's besot sociopath, and she loved him very much, and she was beautiful.

River Song had nothing.

River Song had nothing, and so she followed the one thing she had: a past. She followed her father, and her mother, and her Doctor. She went looking for a good man, though she didn't know exactly what that meant.

What she did know was this: The Doctor had taken the last word, and that could not be allowed.

And so it was that River Song set about to find him, and to find herself, and for two years (which were sometimes long and sometimes short, and sometimes in between) she was extremely happy. River Song, she decided, loved a challenge, and River Song, she decided, loved a chase.

For two years, River Song ran and learned and laughed and lived, and she was not a weapon. For two years, no one told River Song to kill anyone, and River Song saw no reason to. And always, at the back of her mind, was the Doctor. But the front of her mind was distracted, by books and history and friends who were not dogs or parents, because River Song, she decided, had a life.

For two years, River Song drank and broke the law and sometimes she stole vehicles. For two years, River Song had sex and broke hearts and, once, had her heart broken back.

And then she met a man upon a ship, and the ship was attached to a gun, and the gun was pointed at a settlement.

And River Song became a murderer.

.

When Melody Pond became a psychopath, she became one for the Doctor. When Melody Pond became a weapon, and a killer, and an executioner, she became one for the Doctor.

And when Melody Pond died, and sacrificed herself and her future and her being, when Melody Pond became River Song, she became her for the Doctor.

But River Song was not Melody Pond.

When River Song became herself, she did it for the Doctor. When River Song went to school, she did it for the Doctor. And when River Song went looking for a future to replace the one she'd lost, she did it for the Doctor.

But when River Song became a murderer, the Doctor wasn't there.

River Song became a murderer, and saved a settlement, and blew up a ship. And then River Song learned and laughed and lived, and River Song drank and broke the law and sometimes she stole vehicles, and River Song had sex and broke hearts and, sometimes, she had her heart broken back.

River Song became a murderer, and life went on. River Song became a murderer, and the Doctor wasn't there. And that was okay, because River Song, she decided, didn't mind.

And sometimes, at night, when the lights were turned out and River's eyes were closed, she saw the faces of the men she killed. And River Song cried, because River Song, she decided, was not a psychopath.


End file.
